


Similarities

by burusu



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Touch Aversion, background radiohusk, self indulgent comfort fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:13:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28572075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burusu/pseuds/burusu
Summary: Alastor was not the empathetic type. Not in the slightest. He relished in other's suffering, took pleasure in their pain. He was a sadist through and through, and well aware of it.However...
Relationships: (background), Alastor/Husk (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 101





	Similarities

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is related to my 'A Moment of Weakness' story, in that it builds on the main headcanon of that fic. you don't have to read one to understand the other, but they do go well together.

Alastor was not the empathetic type. Not in the slightest. He relished in other's suffering, took pleasure in their pain. He was a sadist through and through, and well aware of it.

However...

There were certain pains that even he wouldn't inflict, let alone find any enjoyment in. He was a sadistic murderer and cannibal, but he did have _some_ morals. They were few, but they did exist in his cold dead heart. Did that make him redeemable? Of course not! He knew quite well he was a monster, and a prime example of why Charlie's little plan would never work.

Still, he found himself feeling like a saint in comparison to some of the lowlifes down here. Filth, that's what they were. Absolutely rotten, even more so than himself. Hell, he almost felt _justified_ in mercilessly torturing them. 

So when he saw the broken, defeated dead eyes of the resident spider as he sat down at the bar, and his _wince_ as his rear hit the seat, Alastor could feel a rage growing within him. It was at a simmer right now, as he couldn't be _absolutely certain_ of what he was looking at, but he could venture a guess. He didn't like the result of putting the pieces together.

But perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps it was simply the result of a hard day of work; after all, Angel _was_ a sex worker. 

Husk spoke up first. He'd been chatting with him before Angel had arrived, but he couldn't remember the conversation for the life of him. No, this was more pressing.

"You uh... okay?" Came the drunkard's rough voice, and Alastor noticed Angel flinch as the silence was broken. The spider then gave a weak, pitiful laugh, obviously trying to brush off Husk's concerns. But the pain in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Yeah. Just tired," He dismissed, waving a hand. "Got any tequila? The cheap stuff'll do."

Husk eyed him, as did Alastor. He looked between the two, seeming to shrink under their studying gazes. 

"Uhh... what? Why are you guys starin' at me?"

Alastor was silent a moment, collecting his thoughts as he took a sip of his drink. Then he spoke, his voice barely laced in static.

"To be frank, you look like shit," he eventually stated, his smile thin. Oh, how he wanted to frown. "I assume something happened at work?"

He didn't particularly care about Angel, but something about his current demeanor screamed at him that something was horribly wrong. And not in a way he would find funny. It was too... _~~familiar~~_.

Angel's facade cracked for just a moment, in a flash of fear. But he quickly recovered, almost instantly, and gave an attempt at a glare.

"Th' fuck's it to you?" He spat, and Husk sighed, pouring him a shot of tequila. 

"Ever think maybe he's concerned?" Husk deadpanned, shoving the drink at the spider, who immediately downed it.

"Yeah right," Angel scoffed, slamming the glass down. "Concern my ass. Ain't nobody gonna be concerned 'bout a whore."

Alastor's expression didn't change. The only movement from him was the rhythmic clicking of his claws on the wood of the bar, which was only really to ground himself. Husk knew that tell of his, but Angel would probably interpret it as annoyance. Which wasn't _entirely_ incorrect.

"...Despite what you may think, I am not out to harm you." At the moment. "If you're worried about anything getting back to Charlie, don't. I'm not going to tell her any of what is said here."

He kind of wished he didn't have the reputation of being a master manipulator at the moment, since it was unlikely Angel would take his words as sincere. Especially if the problem was what he suspected, and trust had already been broken.

Angel stared him down, obviously suspicious. He continued the tapping of his fingers.

"I don't believe you," said the arachnid, and Alastor sighed. 

"That is warranted, I suppose." He took another sip of his pint, no longer looking at Angel. A memory long repressed tried to surface in his mind, but he pushed it down, his tapping coming to a brief halt before resuming.

Husk was staring, he could tell. Be it of concern, or simple confusion, he didn't know. However, the cat eventually settled his gaze back on Angel, and grunted.

"Y'know, I ain't one to force anybody to talk about shit. Lord knows I don't talk about _my_ problems." A beat. "But if yer bein' mistreated—"

"Shut up!" Angel interrupted, slamming his fists on the bar. "I get exactly what I signed up for! If I can't... handle it, then..." 

His voice broke, and he swallowed, looking down in shame. He ran a hand over his face, and continued softly.

"It ain't like I don't deserve it. I... I was an idiot, and threw away my freedom fa stupid shit. And he... he's just keepin' me in line. All the shit he does, it's 'cause I fucked up."

Alastor's tapping stopped. He didn't look at Angel, but the spider had his full attention.

So there was a contract involved? That was... utterly despicable. Even by his standards. Sure, he couldn't say that the contracts he made were particularly _fair_ , but to use it for...

He couldn't even finish the thought, it was so repulsive. After a moment, he spoke, oddly quiet.

"I can assure you that it's not your fault." Words he wished had been said to him, all those decades ago. "I may not be an upstanding citizen, nor a good person of any kind, but even I can see that you don't deserve that kind of treatment."

From the corner of his eye, he could see Husk giving him a look of... well, he seemed very taken aback. Which was fair, since normally he'd never say such things.

"I agree with Al," Husk stated, then put a paw on Angel's hand, careful not to spook him. "Ya really don't deserve that shit. No one does. It's fucked up that he hurts you like that."

Angel gave a humorless laugh, hiding his face with one hand.

"Ya don't know what he says ta me. He's always tellin' me how much trouble I cause, how much money I lose 'im. I should be grateful that I ain't on the streets, right? He gives me my own place, fancy clothes, all the drugs I could ever want... I don't got a right ta complain."

Alastor was so close to frowning, it was scary. He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and faced Angel fully, leaning his elbow on the counter.

"He tells you it's your fault, right? That everything he does is 'tough love,' and that if you'd stop messing up you'd stop getting punished. But no matter how much you try, he won't stop. No, your mere existence is his reason for the things he does, and that behavior won't change, even if you completely reinvent yourself as a person. Even if you do everything he says word by word, he'll still find an excuse to hurt you."

Angel was staring at him, wide-eyed, but he knew the man needed to hear this. So he continued, his gaze distant, somewhere else.

"Because at the end of the day, he enjoys it. He likes abusing someone weaker than him. He derives a sick pleasure from it. And he won't stop unless you _make him_. Become stronger than him, and make him _beg for mercy_." The last sentence was said with such _venom_ that both Husk and Angel were shocked into silence. 

Angel was the first to speak.

"...How do you know? You... have you...?"

Alastor stiffened, his expression changing minutely. Husk looked about to say something, but the deer spoke up instead.

"That is neither here nor there. And this conversation is _not_ to get out to anyone. I will know if you spill, and make you pay for it. All I am offering is advice, nothing more." 

Silence again. Had he said too much? Would it get out that he...? 

Husk wouldn't say anything, he knew. But would Angel?

"I think his point is that if ya kill the bastard, then ya won't have to deal with his bullshit anymore," Husk chimed in, still gingerly holding Angel's hand. "Hell, slip somethin' in his drink. Then before he wakes up, stab 'im in the heart with an angel's weapon."

Angel looked close to crying, Alastor noticed. Poor thing. 

"B-but I can't! Vox will kill me, and—" He seemed to be desperately trying to hold back tears, and it was a pitiful sight. Alastor looked at Husk, and Husk seemed to agree with his nonverbal suggestion. Angel needed a hug, and he couldn't provide, so it was up to the feline to dish out the physical reassurance that the man so desperately needed.

Husk didn't move quickly, nor was he in any way forceful. He simply opened his arms, and gently guided the now-weeping spider into a hug. Since there was still a bar between them, it looked rather uncomfortable, but it would do.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay. Cry it out." 

Ah, how wonderful Husker was. Gruff and irritable to most, but to those who needed it? He could be very comforting. It was one of the things Alastor loved about him.

"H-he's gonna—I can't—" Angel sobbed, hyperventilating. Alastor found it eerie how it echoed his own cries, so long ago. He couldn't touch him without cringing himself, so instead he opted for words.

"He will not hurt you here. I'll make sure of it." Although he had no ties to the arachnid, he felt compelled to stay true to that promise. Was it because he was going soft? Or was it due to his own distress at seeing such a familiar situation from the outside?

...He couldn't tell. What he could tell, though, was that Husk's magic comforting seemed to be helping. Good. He didn't like hearing Angel's sobs, filled with the words of memories he'd long since tried to repress.

"Yeah, you're okay. See? It'll be alright," Husk assured, and though Angel was still trembling, he was beginning to calm down. He had his face buried in Husk's shoulder, and Alastor couldn't find it in him to even be jealous. No, Angel needed this. 

He was sure he'd be asked about all this later, in the privacy of either his or Husk's room, but honestly? Perhaps it was time that Husk knew. Maybe... maybe he wouldn't think any less of him.

"Hey Al?" Came Angel's soft voice, tremulous and muffled by Husk's fur. "Thanks."

Alastor blinked. Huh. He really... wasn't expecting to be thanked. After all, he hadn't really done much. But he chuckled nonetheless, trying to regain his usual cheery persona.

"Think nothing of it, my dear." As in, 'please don't piece together the glaringly obvious answer to the puzzle I've created around myself.' He removed his monocle, idly cleaning it with a cloth from his pocket as Angel calmed down the rest of the way.

A few more minutes went by, with the only sounds being Husk's occasional reassurances and Angel's slowing breaths. Eventually, the spider gingerly pushed himself up off the bar, righting himself and trying to wipe off his already smudged makeup. 

"Well," he said with one last sniff, "I'm gonna hit the hay. I'm off tomorrow, thank fuck."

"Thank fuck indeed," Alastor agreed, his shark-like grin returning. It was completely fake, of course, but Angel didn't need to know that. "Do tell me if you need any... extra help with the rat. I've been meaning to get back at Vox for some time now, and dismembering his partner is certainly a tempting option."

Angel chuckled nervously, obviously still unsure about the whole thing. It was sad, really, the effect Valentino had on him. Poor thing. 

"Yeah, uh. Imma try to sleep. Night Al, Husk." And after a moment of hesitation, Angel left for his room upstairs. As soon as he was out of sight, Husk turned to Alastor.

"Hey. You alright?" He asked, in the same tone he'd used on Angel.

"Of course I am. It takes a lot more than that to upset me." A boldfaced lie, but he wasn't about to spill his heart to his lover at the bar. Husk seemed to read this, and glanced around, surveying the things he hadn't done. He shrugged.

"Fuck it. Princess can chew me out later, I'm closin' down." Alastor raised an eyebrow as Husk shut off the lights, and stepped out from behind the bar. Well, he certainly wasn't complaining.

A hand was offered to him, and he took it, after downing the rest of his drink. It was time to rest, in the arms of someone he trusted with his entire being. 

He hoped the memories didn't plague his dreams this time.


End file.
